


Killers In White

by kurlozyfries



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunters, F/F, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, OT6, REALLY slow, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:40:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4701278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurlozyfries/pseuds/kurlozyfries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all know and love the Fake AH Crew, but have you ever wondered how they began?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Geoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'll have to forgive me for the messy format - im still figuring ao3 out haha ;u;

(You don’t know my brain the way you know my name,  
You don’t know my heart the way you know my face,  
You don’t know what I’ve done, I’m wanted and on the run.  
I’m wanted and on the run.  
So I’m taking this moment to live in the future)

“What is your problem?”

Geoff glared at his stepfather. “Problem? I don’t have a problem! You, however, I can’t speak for.” He clenched his fist around his fork tightly. “Maybe you should learn some respect, old man.”

His mother watched warily, not speaking a word to either, despite the fact that the conversation was solely based on her.  
Geoff was 10 when his dad died. His mom went into a state of numbness and dissociation for 5 years, and was finally coaxed out of it with a promise of love from her then coworker, now husband, 6 years after the loss of Mr. Ramsey.

Throughout the year they’d been married, he’d somehow managed to give his mother one broken finger, two dislocated shoulders, five black eyes, and six concussions.

He’d walked in on what could’ve ended in a sixth black eye for his mom as the man had raised his fist. Ms Ramsey cooked dinner and they’d been arguing since they sat down.

“Don’t call me old man, punk,” his stepfather snapped. “I should beat some sense into you.” Geoff’s mom put a hand on his arm. “I think it’s time to head to bed, sweetie. You have school tomorrow, right?” She smiled sadly. “I’ll walk you up there. I have to make our bed anyways.”

Geoff complied without a word, his heart aching for her. They walked upstairs and into his bedroom in silence. She locked his door behind them, sighing. “Geoff…” He looked down. “I hate him. I don’t care if he hurts me, I can’t let him touch you anymore.”

Her hands reached his face. “I know. That’s why you need to leave.” Geoff blinked, his heart stopping. “What? Why would I leave you with him?” Tears began sliding down her cheeks silently. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he hurt you. I can’t wait to let it happen. You need to leave tonight, Geoff. I don’t know where. I’ll give you all the money I have so you can get yourself somewhere safe. I just need you to go.”

He bit his lip. “But…” He sighed. It was pointless to argue. She was just as stubborn as he was. “I have so much stuff, how could I just pack up and go?” Geoff tried.

“You can’t take all of it. Just grab what you need and go by tomorrow. I’m not doing this for me or your stepfather. I’m doing this for you. I love you so very much.”

She was crying now. He was too. Geoff was confused and scared. He was only seventeen. He wasn’t prepared for the world yet.

Ms Ramsey hands him a small box, about the size of his hand. In it was an emergency phone, used for calling two numbers, a preset one and 911. “This has my sister’s number in it. She lives in Texas. Your best choice would be meeting her somewhere and staying with her for as long as she allows it. I’m x sorry, baby, I can’t do anymore for you.”

He wiped his eyes in a jerking manner. “No, no, it’s fine, thank you. I’ll be gone by twelve tonight.”

She nodded and hugged him. “I love you. Good luck, Geoff. I believe that you can become a good-hearted, beautiful human being without me or your stepfather.” She smiled one last time, kissed his forehead, and left the room.  
Boy, could she not be more wrong.  
Geoff didn’t move for a while, lost in his confusion. “How am I going to survive?” he wondered aloud. He looked at his door. His mom really believed in him. Maybe he could do it.

Geoff grabbed his backpack and emptied all of the books on his bed. He packed up some of his clothes, hygiene products, and books for the road. He grabbed a framed picture off his wall. It was of him, his mom, and his dad. He stuffed that into his bag too, and then zipped it up.

Geoff looked around and decided he didn’t need anything else in there or in the bathroom and opened his door. He looked around the corners, making sure that his stepdad was in his room. Then, he stepped lightly down the stairs and into the kitchen.

He pulled food out of the cabinets and refrigerator, fitting them into his backpack with a little more carefulness.  
He pulled a few drinks out of the fridge and put them in it as well. Finishing that, he stopped and stared into the fridge. In it was his stepdad’s pack of beer, sitting in the front and glaring at him.

Geoff pulled one out and slid it into his bag. He zipped it up and left the kitchen, seeing his mother on the couch.

She doesn’t notice him, and he realised why when he walked up to her - she was asleep. Geoff kissed her forehead softly. “Love you, Mom.”

There was nothing else he thought he needed. He looked around the house one last time, heart aching like before. Geoff took a step outside, and walked down the road, not looking back for anything.


	2. Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack uses they/them in these! :^) Thanks for sticking around friends!

It was way too early for this. 

Jack stepped out of their room and stared at the apartment door that was 5 feet in front of them. The shouting was much louder now that they'd opened their door. They heard the shattering of glass and (somehow) their new neighbors managed to reach what they would consider a fortississimo. Doors opened throughout the apartment complex hallway as other curious (and just as sleepy) dwellers were struck by the noise.

The watch on Jack’s wrist flashed the numbers 4:54 in red. Wait, watch? Why did they go to sleep wearing their watch? They looked down and realized they were still in their work clothes Cursing to their self, they went back inside, figuring someone else could call the landlord this time.

The apartment was dark except for their kitchen light, so they headed towards it, flailing around scattered furniture without their glasses. They ran into the table beside the couch, wincing in pain. Jack was sure that would be a bruise later. They fumbled around a little more before they reached the kitchen.

Jack ran their hand down the wall before finding the light switch. They stepped into the kitchen and sat down at their table, yawning and running a hand through their hair. They couldn't wait until they could find a better place to live. It was always so loud here. A while back, they'd estimated that it would probably be about four more months before they had the option to move, considering how tight money had been lately. 

They figured that, considering work was only in a few hours, they could just stay awake and not change back into normal clothing. Their mind moved slowly, trying to bring it to use. It really was way too early. Jack hoped that the neighbors would move soon. Surely, they would be kicked out by the landlord soon if enough complaints reeled in. Maybe someone more quiet and less violent would take their place.

Jack wandered with thoughts as they slowly drifted into a state of dozing - which was quickly interrupted by a swift, loud knock on the door. They groaned and stood up, walking to the door grumpily. Upon opening it, Jack saw their landlord. The woman had a very tight smile on her face, showing that she didn’t want to be up this early either.

“Sorry to bother you, Jack. I’m sure you were awakened by the occupants of Room 309?” Jack’s frown deepened. “Uh, yeah? I think everyone was, actually. They aren’t the quietest of neighbors.” She laughed. “No, they aren’t, apparently.”

She pulled a paper off of a clipboard. “If you would like to file a complaint, please fill out this form and return it to me by tomorrow. I have decided that it might be time to have them take their leave.” They sighed in relief as she handed them the paper. Thank God.

Jack closed the door. They laid the paper on the table and sat down on the couch, stifling a yawn. Grabbing the remote, they turned the television on. The old television fizzled into a news segment about something that caught Jack's attention quickly. A day or two ago, a man was arrested for the murder of his wife and was a suspect for the disappearance of his stepson. The kid had been missing for about six months how.

A picture of the missing seventeen year-old flashed on the screen, a boy with a tired smile carrying a grey backpack. His blue eyes were dulled from the saturation in the photo, but they held a glint of mischief that even Jack could spot. They wondered over the photo of the boy as it flickered off of the screen, and a man's mugshot replaced it.

Jack frowned, eyebrows furrowing. The nerve of some people, they thought. Disgusting. With that thought, the watch on their wrist beeped loudly, reminding them that work was in two hours. Jack stood up, not really wanting to drive all the way out to the country for work.

Jack worked as a salesman for an antique shop, which they'd been hired to help run last year. The job was interesting in itself - they got a new shipment of random kick-knacks every week - but Jack really, really, _really_ didn't want to go in today.

With a heaving sigh, they grabbed their keys off of the table and their jacket out of the closet. Jack stepped out of their room and locked the door behind them, the click sudden in the now dead quiet. Soft steps were taken through the hallway and into the elevator.

The drive to work was silent. Jack didn't bother turning on the radio. When they parked their car, they noticed their boss inside the store with another person. Walking into the store, Jack only stopped when their boss, Griffon, noticed them and smiled brightly. "Jack!"

She ushers them to walk over, and Jack complied silently, biting back another yawn. "Morning." Jack was thirty minutes earlier than usual. Griffon looked at the still turned figure and they turned around.

It was someone about two or three years younger than Jack, with dark brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. The boy had a cut on his lip and a backpack on his shoulder. "Hi, there."

"This guy claims to have travelled from Mississippi, to Austin, and now to here to be here with us today," Griffin states. "Or, rather, you, Jack."

The boy smiled sheepishly. "She isn't lying. Actually, my aunt sent me here. She wanted me to talk to you."

Jack's eyes widened. "Really? Why? I mean, like, who is your aunt?"

"Well, she isn't my biological aunt. She isn't even that much older than me, she's about your age. Her name is Caiti. Caiti Ward."

Jack looked at the ceiling. Jesus, they hadn't spoken to Caiti since high school. Why would she need them now? "Why does she need me?"

The guy smiled again. A glint in his eye gave him away. "She doesn't - I do."

Jack knew this guy.


	3. Michael

Michael Jones glared at the guy sitting next to him on the plane. He was flirting with the flight attendant and she was obviously really uncomfortable. Michael hated to see that. Everytime she tried to leave he’d say something to make her obligated by her job to stay. Occasionally the redhead would feel his hands clench into fists around his arm rests, willing himself to not wring the guy’s neck. It took a lot.

“Hey,” he spoke. “miss flight attendant lady. Can I have a beer or something? Do you guys even serve alcohol here?” She looked at him, relieved. “Yes, we do serve beverages! However, I will have to go grab some from the back, and I need to see your license.” Michael handed it to her, and she looked it over. “Alrighty!” With that, she gave it back and rushed off. The man grunted and looked down at his lap.

The Jerseyan was reading over a tourist pamphlet for Los Santos, California, a city he was visiting to meet up with an old friend. It had been a long time before he’d left New Jersey for anywhere. Going across the country was supposed to be a nice break from his home state. Unfortunately, his karma was rusty. Stealing electronic cigarettes and Playboy magazines, selling pharmacy pills under lunch tables in middle school, and breaking the nose of his high school principal were just a few of the reasons Michael and the universe wasn’t on good terms.

Ray Narvaez, Jr. wasn’t always Michael’s friend. Way back when (third grade, more specifically), they met was when Michael threw Ray’s favorite Yu Gi Oh card into the sewer drain. The following week, Ray cut off a chunk of Michael’s red curls off with a pair of child-safe scissors. When they both went to the principal, they apologized, hugged on the request of the teacher, and then got in a fist fight right in the office.

Ray was homeschooled for a while (like, three months). But when he came back, something was different. Ray was quieter than before. He wore different glasses and an oversized purple hoodie. Michael knew something was up. They got to talking and it happened to surface that Ray’s parents had divorced.

That day, Michael knows, was the day he was sure Ray was gonna be his best friend for a long time. It was true too, and they spent everyday together for the next ten years. Then it changed again. School ended. They were always talking about college, careers, life, marriage, kids. Ray had started trying to change the subject whenever they reached the topics, and Michael never really gave it much thought. That is, at first.

They had been watching the news on the couch one day. Something had happened in Texas. A big financial guy had murdered his wife and his kid was missing. There was a commercial for a nursing college, and Ray changed the channel. Finally, Michael asked. Ray admitted that he was moving. And moving, he meant _moving across the country because I suck and life sucks and my aunt wants me to live with her while I go to college in California. Rest in peace, my life._

It had been a few years since that happened. Now, Michael was visiting for the first time. Ray had finished college two months ago. They’d been planning this visit since.

But hey, you know what would be great? If the lady getting him a beer wasn’t looking at him like he was Jesus Christ incarnate. She was smiling and blushing and telling him not to pay for it. That last part was great (Free beer? Um, yes, please.), but he really didn’t like the way she was acting.

The speaker crackled throughout the plane, announcing they were ten minutes away from Los Santos's airport. Michael started cleaning up and looked back at his phone. Ray said he'd be in there, "probably at Starbucks or something. Could use some caffeine anyways." Michael typed out and sent a blunt "Be there in 15."

The next ten minutes were full of chatter from around the plane. Most of the people weren't staying at Los Santos, just boarding another plane and leaving again. It seemed the few that were staying weren't exactly talking, scattered about the plane in silence.

As the plane descended onto the runway, Michael was ready to go. He stepped off, and grabbed his bags from bag check. His heart was pounding. God, this was scary. He'd never been this far away from home without company, and he didn't even know where Starbucks was here.

...Oh. Starbucks was, like, ten feet in front of him. What luck. He cleared his throat and held his two duffel bags tightly as he walked through the entrance of the worshipped coffee shop.

“MICHAEL, OH MY GOD.” The yell came from the back, and the thudding sound of someone running wasn’t yet processed by Michael’s brain before he was tackled by the ground. A yelled slipped out of his mouth as he fell, dropping both of the bags. “Ray?!”

Ray threw his hands up. “I mean, obviously!” Glares from other coffee drinking hipsters didn’t seem to faze him. “You look the same as you did 10 years ago. Except you’re bigger and have more tattoos.” Michael’s eyes were squinted as a smile formed on his face. “It’s only been three years, you loser.”

Ray nodded. “I know, but I still stand by my original statement.” He grinned and stood up, helping the other do so as well and taking a bag. “Hold on, dude. I want to introduce you to a friend of mine. He’s here with me.” Michael nodded and looked to where Ray had been sitting. A man in sunglasses with light brown hair sat in the back with a smile on his face. Wait. Were those sunglasses....Oh my God, is that actual gold? Was this guy seriously sporting gold sunglasses? Michael wanted to laugh but he was too dumbfounded. Amazing. Gold. How classy.  
` Ray and Michael walked over towards him. “This is Gavin,” Ray announced. “Gavin Free. He’s into slow-mo stuff and probably dudes, too, but he won’t admit it.” Gavin squawked. “Not true! Why are you always telling people this kind of stuff, Ray?” Oh. He’s British. Michael wanted to hold a hand out to him, but his arm didn’t budge. He settled for a “Hi. I’m Michael, Michael Jones.”

The other nodded. “Ray told me. He also told me many other things. Like how your middle name is Vincent, and you stole Playboy magazines when you were twelve, and how you are…” He looked down, blushing darkly.

“I told him that you were hella homo!” Ray proclaimed loudly. More hipster glares. Michael was glaring too. “Wow, dude. You suck. That’s a lie and you know it.” Ray grinned. “Do I?”

Michael diverted the question easily. Not like it needed an answer anytime soon anyways. “So, uh. How about a tour of this _lovely_ city of yours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long, I've been dealing with school and sickness. ;n; Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Gavin

Gavin was shocked. This Michael guy, he'd expected something else from him. Not all curls and laughter and cheeky little grins. No, Gavin had expected some buff guy to walk through the door, covered in tattoos and piercings, yelling angrily at everyone who spoke to him.

It was really hard to contain his shock. Everything that Ray always told him didn't appear evident in their meeting. Michael didn't look like someone he would think to be from New Jersey.

Laughter was shared over coffee, promises of something stronger later being exchanged over the table. Michael shared stories of Ray's old neighborhood, going on about the people who lived in his old house.

Gavin watched silently, cracking a confused smile at the jokes the two shared he didn't understand. Ray glanced over, finally, and snorted. "Why so quiet, man? You always got something to say."

The British man laughed. "Not always, it seems. I figured you two had some catching up to do." Michael didn't say anything to him, but Ray was snickering. "You're such a loser," Ray said bluntly, turning back to Michael. "Fun fact: Gavin works in the tech field, and he does slow motion cinematography. Like, big time kind of cinematography. It's all really lame and I never tried to understand it, nor will I ever try to."

Ray stood up. "We should probably go. Jack wants to meet this guy anyways." Gavin nodded, and noticed the look of confusion on the Jerseyan's face. "Jack is our friend. They moved to Los Santos about a year ago. They are a ginger." The sentences came out choppy and Gavin didn't really know why he just told Michael that Jack was a ginger, but, thankfully, Michael just smiled a little and nodded. "Okay, then. Lead the way."

Gavin and Ray walked on either side of Michael, telling him about the city. "I'd like to say that this the best city ever to live in and raise and family or whatever, but it's probably the worst city in California," Ray explained. "Gangs and crime and all that. There's a robbery or like murder every other hour here."

Michael's eyes widened. "Jesus. And I thought my town was bad." Gavin nodded along. "I work part-time in this tech company that reports around two break-ins to the offices every week. It's terrible."

Ray laughed. "Like it affects you at all. You're, like, rich compared to me, dude." Gavin grinned. "That's because I walk! You drive around a stupid pink bicycle like a looney!"

Ray stuck his tongue out, and wrapped his arm around the back of Michael's neck. "Do you see what I have to deal with? Don't ever befriend this loser. Like, ever. I'm serious."

They grabbed his luggage and stopped at a shop with some pain medicine (Gavin had a headache), then walked out. There was a car different than the others parked outside. It was of an older model type, black with a green star in a circle on the hood. Michael pointed it out, laughing at how weird it looked compared to the rest. Ray snickered. "That's our ride."

Michael did a double take. "We're driving that?!" They laughed. "C'mon, Jack is probably annoyed that we took so long in here. They were gonna meet you inside but they just bought a coffee and went back to the car."

Gavin smiled. "They just don't like waiting in crowded places." Michael nodded for probably the billionth time that day. He always seems to when I say something, Gavin thought. Is he just not comfortable enough with me?

As he was lost in his train of thought, Jack stepped out of the car. "Well, took you long enough," they said in an accusing manner. Ray laughed. "Shoulda stayed in there with us."

Gavin snickered. "Got more drinks," he confirmed. Jack shook their head and smiled. "Oh, of course. Great reasoning to make me wait in the car."

Gavin turned to Michael. "Well, here he is! Michael Jones in all his glory, just as Ray assured he'd be in." Michael nodded and smiled. "Hey."

Jack waved back. "Okay, let's go." They turned. "Ray, can you stay here with me for a second? Gavin, help him load his stuff." Gavin nodded, his expression now a little more serious. He already knew the conversation they were about to have, and that it was his job to distract Michael with something.

Jack pulled Ray to the side as Gavin and Michael picked up the luggage. "So. New Jersey," Gavin croaked out. He wasn't good at this. Michael nodded. "Yeah. I live there." Gavin knew that.

"Is it...really that bad?" he asked. A pause. "Yeah," Michael replied. "For someone like you, who isn't exposed to crime, or whatever." That caused a snicker. A snicker that erupted into laughter. The laughter that drowned out Jack's question to Ray that Michael almost heard.

"Is he really going to be good enough?"

Ray joined Gavin in overexerted laughter. "Yeah! Yeah. He will." Jack silently got in the car. Gavin took the front with a shriek of "SHOTGUN!" and Ray took the back with Michael. Jack looked at Gavin. Their expression was enough to confirm their hopes.

The car started abruptly, with no warning to the passengers. Jack turned around, a smile enrapturing their face. "Glad I finally got to meet Michael the Famous." They glared knowingly at Ray, who, in return, continued looking out the window as they drove off. His smile would've been missed by anyone else except for the ones who knew the reasoning behind it.

Gavin nodded. "Yeah, I think that it's great you decided to visit Ray! We're, like, his only friends."

Michael snorted. "Not surprising." Ray raised his hands up in defense. "Hey, I've got a few others."

Jack erupted in laughter. "Literally two other people. Not even a few, Ray. Two. You have a whopping total of five friends."

Ray flipped him off through the mirror, and that made the car shake with giggles.

He turned to Michael. "I think you'll like Geoff. He seems like your kinda guy." An eyebrow wiggle earned Ray a punch on the arm.

Gavin smiled. "He's from Alabama!" Michael scrunched his nose. "Uh, no thanks."

More laughter. Jack and Ray's conversation was becoming more meaningful by the second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thiS WASNT SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS LONG BUT HERE U GO

**Author's Note:**

> this is gonna be fun. thank you for reading :^)


End file.
